For about a decade, Justine Triet has been circling around being consolidated as one of the most promising young voices in contemporary European cinema – her work is incredibly layered and always very precise, and navigates the vague boundaries between humour and drama with such astonishing ease, it was only a matter of time before she had a breakthrough in which audiences were finally able to realize her genius. While I have been fervently supporting these claims ever since Sibyl (as well as going back to her previous work), only recently did she produce a work that feels like her vision has started to match the ambition that drives her films. It is difficult to look at a film like Anatomy of a Fall (French: Anatomie d’une chute) and not be thoroughly enraptured in this story. A multifaceted project with numerous layers, each one playing on a range of different conventions, the film subverts and challenges the genre as much as it does the entire narrative process as a whole. Triet has gradually worked her way to becoming one of the most essential filmmakers of her generation, and while her career is comparatively still in its infancy, especially since she takes her time in between projects, it is not difficult to see why she has attained such an extraordinary amount of acclaim over the years, and why Anatomy of a Fall is being heralded as not only a personal peak for the director but a masterful entry into to growing canon of fascinating arthouse projects that defy conventions and instead choose to be complex examinations of deeper subjects, which add up to something truly valuable and extremely entertaining. It is bizarre to mention that a particular film makes it feel like a director has finally arrived, especially when they have been doing solid work for years, but Triet manages to craft such a beautiful, evocative film that blends courtroom drama with psychological thriller, investigating a number of peculiar ideas with razor-sharp precision and some well-placed wit, which makes for an engaging and enthralling narrative experience, one that captures our attention immediately and maintains it until the very end.

From the start, Anatomy of a Fall makes itself very clear about what it intends to be, at least in terms of the general structure. Audiences are notoriously quite divided when it comes to courtroom dramas, with some finding them engaging while others are decidedly not quite as positive, which can create a rift, and it takes a very gifted filmmaker to be able to bridge the gap, delivering stunning and profound work, which is certainly the case with what Triet is aiming to do with this film. It isn’t only a case of finding good ideas in a common genre, but developing them so that even the most conventional aspects are rendered as entirely new. This film is an elegant, deeply poignant examination of a murder trial, where a woman is accused of killing her husband, with her defence being caught somewhere between thinking it was an accident or implying that he could have committed suicide. The film leaves very few stones unturned, being a methodical, thorough examination of such a trial and the people involved. Unquestionably detailed, Anatomy of a Fall provides enormous depth to this kind of story, being as much about the lives of these characters as it is the legal system, which is shown to not be built on the most honest of means, but rather is yet another aspect of society that rewards creativity and cunning, as we see the tug-of-war between the prosecution and defence, both of which are dedicated to going to any lengths to prove their side of the story, the truth being caught somewhere in the middle, which is the most intriguing aspect of this film, and the reason it manages to be so successful. Despite its immense detail, the film never once feels like it is driven by formula, which is a very impressive achievement all on its own, since it shows how a good story that helps overcome tropes of a genre, which Triet and co-writer Arthur Harari work laboriously to restructure into something engaging and compelling, depending on various elements alongside the narrative to form a rich, evocative film that a trial that is detailed but never heavy-handed or unnecessarily dense, which is quite rare for a genre that often thrives on misplaced complexity.

Throughout the film, Triet takes her time to develop many of the more compelling and captivating themes of the story, which take root in unexpected and profoundly moving ways. There is a deeper message to this film, and it becomes clear that it is not the fall itself that is being analysed in this film, but rather the circumstances that surround it, going back several months and years to examine the life of this woman and the relationship she had with her husband. Anatomy of a Fall is as much about courtroom proceedings as it is about investigating a marriage that was gradually declining as a result of several factors – familial tragedy, artistic differences (since both characters were writers, which becomes a major source of contention), and the general malaise that arises from long-term relationships. It becomes a fascinating and quite offbeat exploration of the lives of these people, particularly in how the marriage methodically began to deteriorate as time went on. This entailed the film taking a more active approach to looking at these themes, which results in several precise ideas being infused into a relatively simple narrative, each one being carefully curated by Triet, who understands that there was much more at stake with this film than initially meets the eye and that every detail embedded in this film, whether essential to the plot or merely supplementary, is important. We watch in suspense as new details arise – the incident occurs in the first few minutes, and the audience is not privy to any additional information around it and instead discovers the facts in real time (which is a notable departure from many courtroom films, which we are given access to the facts long before other characters – Triet wants to draw on the element of surprise, as well as placing us in the same position as the people observing this trial), which makes for a thrilling and engaging film that carries a lot of meaning, and just enough to propel itself beyond mere conventions, instead flourishing into something far more intriguing and uniquely honest.

The narrative of Anatomy of a Fall is engaging and extremely fascinating, but it is important to remember that regardless of how strong Triet’s direction and the screenplay may be, this is a chamber piece driven by its characters, and everyone needed to be cast exceptionally well, or else the film would run the risk of losing that spark of authenticity that motivated it. In casting the central role, there wasn’t any other option than Sandra Hüller, for whom Triet conceived the role. It seems impossible to imagine any other actor being able to deliver this kind of performance since it needed someone who could exist at that precise intersection between sympathetic and despicable, an actor who was not afraid to play a character with deep, irredeemable flaws and storied history, but who we still find compelling and interesting. Sandra is not a villain, but she is also not a particularly good person, which is not something that many actors of capable of doing without it becoming glaringly obvious. Hüller is unquestionably one of the finest actors of her generation, someone who brings layers of complexity to absolutely every role, and it is not at all surprising that she would bring this character to life with extraordinary commitment and a lot of nuance. It is rare to find someone who delivers a performance that is so multifaceted and ambigious, yet still perfectly understandable and easily embraced as more than just what it appears to be on the surface. Hüller is so exceptional, we don’t even realize the masterful work being done by the other actors – in particular Milo Machado-Graner as the protagonist’s blind son who undergoes an existential crisis of his own as a result of these events, and the always brilliant Swann Arlaud as the lawyer who takes on the case – and like many courtroom films, it requires a lot of work from the actors, both technically (the passages of dialogue that they all had to memorize is staggering), and emotionally – one can only imagine the psychological toll such a story can take on the actors as they perform such complex roles, and Triet has been known to push her actors to the edge of their abilities. After giving Hüller one of her best roles in Sibyl, the director once again proves that she understands the actor better than many others, and gives her the role of a lifetime in this extraordinarily complex and intriguing psychological drama that functions as a tightly wound game of mental cat-and-mouse between these various characters as they work to uncover the truth.

Ultimately, the difference between Anatomy of a Fall and many similar courtroom dramas is how it manages to present itself as somewhat more unique and invigorating than the conventional entries into the genre, which is quite remarkable considering how closely it aligns on a narrative and structural level to many other similarly-themed films, a deliberate choice made by the director, who intended to revisit the concept of a courtroom story. The main component that differentiates this film from others is the tone – Triet works hard to establish a very specific atmosphere, one that is highly engaging and allows the story to be shrouded in a lot of mystery and complexity, which is not a prerequisite for the narrative, but one that helps elevate it beyond mere traditions. The film never falls victim to its emotions, and while there is a lot of fiery passion (particularly in the extended sequence where we see a flashback to the penultimate fight between the protagonist and her now-deceased husband), it all feels very authentic – the rage and heartbreak are genuinely well-conceived and beautifully constructed, and we find ourselves being drawn ever-deeper into the world of the story. Triet keeps everything very simple, but doesn’t hesitate to make some bold choices in terms of both the direction and writing – there are several surprises lingering beneath the surface of this film, and we are constantly allowed to peer deeper into the psychological state of this woman, which is particularly notable considering how so much of Anatomy of a Fall depends on our ability to forge a connection with this character, focusing on her internal existential quandaries that take on an entirely new form throughout this trial, which reveals secrets about her relationship and past that immediately make this a far more compelling work of psychological storytelling than we may have initially imagined based on a surface-level analysis of the premise, which is only a guideline that Triet uses to cobble together this remarkable psychological drama, which is equally as focused on the atmosphere as it is the narrative, the two working in tandem.

Anatomy of a Fall can be objectively frustrating work – this is a legal drama where we don’t get the satisfaction of a neat conclusion. It is always admirable when a filmmaker is willing to construct an entire story around a mystery where the answer is binary (either Sandra murdered her husband or she didn’t), but yet refuses to give us the answer. It isn’t even a matter of the story being open-ended and left to the audience to come up with our interpretation, since we may have our opinions, but ultimately we are not armed with nearly enough knowledge or insight to be able to form a strong interpretation of our own. Instead, Triet plays around with the very concept of a definitive conclusion – whether or not the death was the result of a crime or purely an accident, the point of the story remains the most meaningful aspect of this film. We don’t know the answer, but it would not make much of a difference in either case, since the aspects that draw us in are the glimpses into the psychological state of these characters, with their individual and shared history (which involves both joyful moments and traumas) being what drives the story. Once we move beyond the desire to find a film that provides us with all the answers, and instead start to take note of the more minor intricacies that are slightly hidden from view at first but form the solid foundation for the story as a whole, the easier it becomes to understand exactly what this film represents, which is much more than just a simple story of a woman being put on trial for murder. Anatomy of a Fall likely requires further viewings, since there is so much rich, evocative commentary embedded in this film, it seems unlikely that we are ever going to be able to find meaning after an initial encounter – but as is often the case with Triet’s work, the most enriching aspects are the thoughts these stories provoke and the subconscious emotions that we find being ignited, the sparks of discourse that go beyond the surface-level premise and ultimately add up to a more engaging, entertaining experience. Challenging, sardonic and always fascinating, Anatomy of a Fall is a tremendously intriguing work, and one of the most striking examples of a film that dares to be different in ways that are sometimes unexpected, but not any less inspiring, which is one of the most surprising and unique aspects of this film.